Middle
by Slivering
Summary: Misty thinks the baby is a boy. Ash thinks it's a Pokemon. A series of pokeshippy drabbles.
1. Beginning

**Beginning**

**X**

In books, beginnings are described very typically – as if every encounter with your destined loved one starts with spilling coffee or tutoring every Wednesdays. Misty's beginning starts with running away from her ditsy sisters and fishing with her special Misty lure. Her beginning starts when she reels in a boy and a Pikachu instead of fish by the Viridian Lake. Her real beginning starts when the said boy burns her bike, giving her a reason to follow him halfway across the globe.

Misty thinks her beginning would be a way more interesting start to a romance novel.

Except that it's not a romance.

Except that the said boy doesn't reciprocate her love.

Except that- well, it's not a novel. It's real life.

"_Mist-y_!" Ash scratches Pikachu behind the ear, his free hand holding a cookie. "You should really – mmff – try these cookies that Brock made. They taste really good. I ate like a dozen of them!"

Misty sinks her legs into the Viridian Lake, the cool water nourishing her pale skin. She ignores Ash as he munches on the cookie, save for muttering a quick "moron" under her breath. Staring at the crystalline lake, she dips her fishing rod into the water. Her Misty Lure lies beside her, along with her handkerchief.

Beginnings are nostalgic. Beginnings are one of a kind. The spark of a beginning never returns again, and Misty is left yearning for the first dose of an innocent crush instead of this cruel yet tender love.

Love is harsh and sacrificial. Crushes are bubbly and lustful and outright enjoyable. She wants to have a _crush _on Ash again. She doesn't want to _love_ him anymore.

"Watcha doing?" Ash plops down beside her, voice cheerful and husky at the same time. His cap is strewn to the side, causing his dark hair to stick up in tufts.

"Clearly," Misty tries not to sound irritated. "I'm _fishing _because I'm holding a fishing rod in the water. Are you really that thick?"

Ash looks hurt. "I was just _asking._"

"And I was just _answering._"

"Meanly," Ash retorts.

Misty rolls her eyes. "Grow up."

There is a moment of silence, and Misty decides every day is a new beginning for her to yell at Ash and cover the incessant care she holds for him. It scares her how much she loves him; how far she would go and how much she would do for him.

"Hey," Ash interrupts her train of thought, holding up the lure on the handkerchief. "This is you, Mist."

Ash is being particularly slow today. "Yes," Misty nods her head slowly. "It's _me_. Your incredible deduction skills never cease to amaze me."

He sticks out his tongue. Holding up the mini Misty, he waves her around and makes his voice high-pitched, mocking her: "Hi, I'm Misty! My favorite thing to do is yell at innocent Ash and violently abuse him, and in my free time I like to scream and run away from bugs. I'm also a wimp when it comes to eating carrots and-"

Misty's fingers curl into her fist, nails digging into her palms.

"- I whack Ash with my mallet all the time and think French boys are cute and I'malways screaming into Ash's poor ears, and I start fights on purpose because I'm awkward at normal conversations and I hate my sisters and I'm obsessed with a red bike that Ash _accidentally _burnt and should be forgiven for and-" Ash stops abruptly, mid-rant. He sits up straight, and stares down at mini Misty with wide eyes, like he just realized something shocking.

His face goes eerily serious.

"But Ash likes Misty anyway."

Then he proceeds to kiss the top of mini Misty's head.

And Misty decides that beginnings don't matter, because every day, ever second, every moment a new beginning unfolds, throwing away everything she thought she knew in the first beginning. Because the lure doesn't matter and the lake doesn't matter and the memories don't matter. There is only now – the present, with her and Ash and their journey together.

Misty smiles, and bites down on her lip.

"And somehow," she says. "Misty likes Ash anyway too."


	2. Middle

**Middle**

**X**

Being pregnant is one of the most amazing yet frustrating things in Misty's life. She absolutely adores the baby in her stomach – even though she has no idea if it's a boy or a girl – and is prepared to endure any hardships to make the baby happy.

But she still isn't incredibly pleased with the aches in every part of her body, nor the headache clinging to her skull.

"Ughh!" Misty throws her head against the couch, her head vibrating in sync. "My head is _killing _me."

Ash manages a sympathetic grin at his wife, but he _too _has a fairly bad headache from staying up at night trying to soothe Misty's stomach pains. Misty can get quite cranky when she's in pain (Ash doesn't particularly blame her) so he's forced to get up and get her hot water bottles and Advil. Sometimes, she demands he go grocery shopping at 3 AM just because she's craving for some hot red peppers.

"I never knew having a baby was such a struggle," Misty moans, and thwacks her head against the couch to help ease her headache. "I love the kiddo instead my stomach to death but I feel like death too!"

"Me too," Ash mutters.

Misty rises up, narrowing her eyes. "You too? You've literally just been sitting there all day. That's way easier than carrying a baby around."

Ash glares at her. "I hate when you get hormonal."

"I'm _not _being hormonal."

They scowl at each other and Ash feels somewhat like a 10-year old kid again, having a glaring contest with his hot-headed wife. But after a moment of intense glowering, he can't help but emphasize with Misty's dark circles and tired forehead lines. She looks absolutely exhausted. Gently, he maneuvers over to the couch and slides his arm around her middle, squeezing tightly.

"Stomach hurt?" he asks.

"No, it doesn't. That's why I've been pointlessly complaining about it hurting for the past _three hours._"

Ash winces, but grins. "Didn't know sarcasm was a pregnancy symptom."

"Didn't know Ash Ketchum's were rude and inconsiderate."

To be honest, Ash isn't actually offended by Misty's constant berating. He knows the only reason she's so harsh is because she's having the so-called "mood swings" he's read about, and he also likes her sass to an extent. It was one of the things that had attracted him to her in the first place.

"I wonder who's in there," Ash pokes Misty's middle with his index finger. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Misty's shoulders relax against Ash's chest. "I have a feeling it's a boy."

Ash smiles down at Misty's stomach. "Hey, kiddo. Are you a boy? Kick if you're a boy to let us know!"

Misty rolls her eyes, but smiles at the sweet gesture. "It's too early for the kid to start kicking." They've resorted to calling the baby "kid" because it's too early to tell the gender. But Misty has this instinctive feeling that it's a boy – maybe it's because the baby has been causing her so much trouble, reminding her of a mini-Ash.

Ash rubs soothing circles around Misty's stomach. "Hey, little guy – or, just in case, little girl – aren't you going to give mommy a break?"

Misty groans at a sudden stomach pang. "He says "No way!"

Ash laughs, and they fall into a comfortable silence. Ash peppers Misty's aching forehead with kisses and tries to soothe her pained stomach. Misty's shoulders slump as the pain in her body starts to ease away, and relaxation seeps in. She honestly appreciates Ash so much more than she voices. And she hopes he knows that, even if she's too stubborn to say it aloud to him.

"Mist?" Ash asks.

Misty looks up, and smiles softly. "Yeah?"

"Maybe it's not a boy or a girl."

Confused, Misty furrows her brow. "Huh?"

"Maybe it's a _Pokémon_!"

Misty groans, the headache returns, and she knows she's going to need a cabinet full of hot red peppers to get through the next few months.


End file.
